


darling, so it goes (some things are meant to be)

by Eorlingas



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Babies, Birth, F/M, Family Feels, who lets me do these things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-09 10:57:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8888245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eorlingas/pseuds/Eorlingas
Summary: The birth of Hudson Rae Ward.  orCan you believe someone let these crazy kids procreate?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [serenitysea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenitysea/gifts).



> For Ali, whose many talents include roping everyone into her shenanigans, flipping your preexisting ideas on their heads, and generally embodying chaos. I'm sorry this isn't college au TK, but hopefully this will make up for it a little.
> 
>    
> Special thanks to Sarahj, for taking one for the team and reassuring me this wasn't garbage. And yes, Ali, for conspiring.

When Kara goes into labour on a quiet Sunday morning in the house they'd rented on the Oregon Coast, Thomas Ward, self-described man of action, and the _father of this baby_ , is in Delaware of all places.

She's barely 37 weeks along. First babies are usually late. They'd had time. _They'd had time, goddammit,_ is her frantic thought as she texts Skye to ask if she'd ever, maybe, peed herself when she was pregnant with Lara??? Like a lot??

She waits no longer than 28 seconds before she gets a reply.

_\- ????? Did your water break???????_

Kara considers the wide dark spot on the seat of the outdoor chaise lounge where she'd previously been enjoying a red raspberry leaf tea.

_\- Maybe? Probably. Yeah._

_\- I'm calling Ward._

Kara lets out the breath she hadn't been aware she was holding as she allows the smallest measure of comfort to creep in. Grant Ward is the only person who has the full specs of the op that Thomas is on, and therefore, the only one who can manage the extraction. He also happens to be one of the only people Kara would trust to get it done. Not only is he exceedingly competent, he has a unique insight into how important it is for Thomas to be here for this. Kara knows he will do everything in his considerable power to make sure his little brother is there for the birth of his child.

Even with this knowledge, and her ability to keep a cool head under pressure, so valuable in her line of work, Kara is feeling a little panicky.

She inhales, slow and measured. _It's important to keep breathing_ , she reminds herself, then laughs shakily at the very advice Thomas had earnestly shared from behind the pages of whatever book he'd gamely checked out from the parenting section of the local library.

 _I know how to breathe, Thomas,_ she'd informed him darkly when he'd tried to go over the different techniques various books had advised.

It probably wouldn't have been a horrible idea to maybe have taken a closer look at one or two of his books, she reflects, rubbing her hands over her belly, which is growing more taut with what dawns on her is a real, honest to goodness contraction. She'd probably been having them all morning, on and off, she realizes now, but had written them off as the practice ones she's come to expect over the course of her pregnancy.

Thomas would have known, she thinks wryly. He would have been timing them surreptitiously on his phone, the way he always does when he thinks she doesn't see. He'd been on labour watch since she'd reached what was considered full-term. Kara had practically had to push him out the door to catch his flight the week before.

It had been her idea for him to take this mission. They both needed a little space before the baby came, she reasoned, and it was out of the question for her to be the one to take it. Besides, it was about as low-risk as they got - a simple recon that required nothing more than for Thomas to keep his head down and his mouth shut.

(So, maybe not so simple for Thomas, upon reflection. A little challenge was good for him, though.)

"One last quick recon, and then you're stuck with me," he'd warned, leaning over the curve of her extended stomach to kiss her. He'd looked down at the obstacle between them and sighed dramatically. "Okay. Off Daddy goes into mortal danger."

"It's Delaware," Kara had reminded him. "You're going to a conference. It's barely espionage."

"This is hardly the example of respect we want to give our unborn child."

"Emphasis on _unborn_."

"They're impressionable at any age, Kara."

"Leave already." But she'd grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and tugged him back to her for one last lingering kiss before he finally went.

He'd just been so _excited_ about the whole thing. From the moment she had told him, sitting on her hands to keep them from visibly shaking, and his face split into a grin so wide she was surprised it didn't crack, Kara had known that Thomas wanted this baby as badly as he'd ever wanted anything in his life.

(One would never know that this was the same man who, not four years ago, would balk at the responsibility of caring for a pet fish. Bobbi still hadn't let that one go.)

It's not that she wasn't excited - not after she got over the abject terror of it all, anyway. Once she saw past the fear haze, and had weighed her options carefully, Kara had known that she was going to raise and love this baby with everything in her.

But that was just it. What did she have in her? Was it enough to care for a tiny, completely helpless and dependent human being? To protect him or her from the dangers of the world, of Kara's life in particular?

Kara pulls herself out of these ponderings abruptly. The last thing she needs right now is an anxiety attack. Calm. She has to be calm.

"Okay, kid," she tells her belly sternly, which feels more like a tennis ball than a baseball as the contraction has eased off. "You _better_ wait until your father gets home."

-

The shower. She loves the shower. Why marry Thomas at all like he's been dropping unsubtle hints to do when she could just spend the rest of her life with this shower, which has never, ever let her down?

These musings are interrupted as Kara becomes aware of the sound of footsteps echoing through the house. Loathing to part from the soothing heat and pressure of the water on her lower back - she has a sneaking suspicion that this damned kid is posterior - Kara is much slower than she would usually be to step out of the shower and grab the glock she keeps under the vanity, haphazardly slinging a towel around herself on the way.

As a result, she can hardly get the bathroom door open before she encounters a nonplussed Skye.

If she's taken aback by Kara's appearance, she doesn't let on. "Kara Palamas," she says slowly and emphatically. "Your water broke three hours ago. What are you still doing home? Why aren't you in the hospital?"

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Santa Barbara."

Skye waves dismissively. "I know a guy. And don't deflect. Get some clothes on. I'm taking you to the hospital."

"I'm fine."

"Uh-huh. How far apart are your contractions coming?"

Kara shrugs, clicking the safety back on her gun. "I haven't been timing them." _That's his job,_ she doesn't add but knows Skye hears anyway. "Maybe every five minutes or so."

"How long do they last?"

"Too long," Kara admits before she can stop herself.

Skye levels her with a look. "Hate to break it to you, girl, but you're in _labour_. And if it's anything like how I remember it, fine is the last thing you are. Now come on. I so do _not_ have the training for a home birth."

It is with great difficulty that they get Kara dressed - seriously, has putting on pants _always_ been this hard? - and into the nondescript four-door sedan in the driveway. Another contraction hits as they're pulling out, and Kara finds she kinda doesn't want to talk during those, so she doesn't ask the question on her mind until they reach the freeway.

"SHIELD know you commandeered a quinjet to come here?"

Skye's mouth quirks a little, but she gives no other indication if she's surprised that Kara put it together. "Not exactly."

Kara doesn't pursue the line of questioning. Between all the involved parties - herself, Thomas, Skye, Ward - SHIELD probably owed them a favor or fifty. One less plane wouldn't kill them.

Kara changes the subject. "What'd you do with the hurricane?"

Skye's face softens the way it always does at the mention of her ten-month-old daughter. "Jemma agreed to watch her until I get back."

So the Fitzsimmons were in Santa Barbara as well. Kara doesn't pry. The less she knows about the doings of the highly sought-after scientists and their prodigy daughter, the better.

Skye glances over at her. "By the way, Ward is doing everything he can to get Thomas here as quickly as possible. Last I heard he was en route."

Kara nods silently, hoping the other woman understands the depth of her gratitude without words, as she doesn't entirely trust herself to speak at the moment. She feels embarrassingly close to tears.

"You talk to him?" Skye asks quietly.

Kara clears her throat. "Yes."

It had been a short phone call, each one trying to remain calm for the sake of the other and failing miserably. It had been cut off when Thomas had lost signal, right in the middle of swearing by all that was holy that he was _gonna be there, damn it, he didn't almost take a hypnobirthing class only to miss -_ . He'd called back minutes later, apologizing profusely, while she had pretended that she hadn't, for a hot second, envisioned a significantly more dangerous Delaware than anyone had expected.

_"Thomas?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"Shut up and get here."_

The two women are silent for the rest of the car ride to the private hospital she and Thomas had picked months in advance for its security and discretion, save for Skye's murmur of sympathy as Kara shifts in discomfort in her seat.

"I know. Car rides in labour are the worst."

"Give me a bullet to a non-essential area _any_ _day_."

-

It would be safe to say that Kara has reached the surly stage of labour. Well, safe for someone well out of earshot of the aforementioned Kara. When she hears the labour and delivery nurse at Angel of Mercy mutter something about _transition_ , she fixes her with what Thomas has referred to as the Withering Palamas Stare™.

"Transition into _what_ , exactly?"

But the nurse is a professional through and through, and seems unfazed by the glowering woman in labour before her. If it wasn't for her current condition, Kara would be impressed. She'd met field agents with less nerve than this nurse.

As it is, she has no room for admiration when the woman calmly explains that her body is preparing for the pushing phase of labour.

"Skye," she addresses her companion, whose current duty is to follow Kara at a safe distance as she roams the hallways of the maternity ward, refusing to be still. "Tell the good nurse that I will push when I am good and ready."

"Um - "

"And I am _not_ ready to push." Kara hears her own voice rising to something dangerously near to hysteria but for once in her life she really just doesn't care enough to try too hard to bring it under check.

The long-suffering, no doubt weary nurse looks at Skye. "Just try to make sure she's in a delivery room when that does happen, okay?"

Skye nods, and Kara knows that she's mouthing silent apologies to the nurse behind her back, but before she can feel any indignation over it, the door to the elevator across the hall slides open, revealing the very person for whom she's been so impatiently waiting.

Kara wants to run the short distance between them, but just then she feels a contraction coming on and she can only remain rooted to the spot until he reaches her.

On instinct, she spins into him, pinning him to the wall by his shoulders in the process. "Don't. Move," she orders, before bringing her forehead to rest on his chest and beginning to sway in the rhythmic way she's found her body best deals with a contraction.

If she had any energy for thought beyond getting through this contraction, she would hear his breathless, startled laugh and his whispered promise that he wouldn't dream of it. As it is, she's dimly aware of the soft pressure of his lips on the top of her head and of the familiar weight of his hands coming to rest tentatively on her hips before relaxing into a sure and supportive embrace. He holds her, and it is exactly enough.

When the contraction finally eases off, she lifts her head from his chest and blinks up at Thomas, who is looking at her with so much love and worry and relief that she might actually burst into the tears that have been threatening to come for hours now.

"You're late," she tells him thickly.

"You're early," he returns, smiling a little.

"And you're both about to have a baby, so could we maybe move this into the delivery room?" Skye suggests, shifting from foot to foot and eying Kara like she thinks the baby might drop out onto the floor at any second.

Thomas makes a face at Kara at this like it's just occurred to him. "What _are_ you doing out here?"

The nurse approaches from where she's been keeping a watchful eye on the proceedings a few feet away. "So you're the reason we almost had a baby in the hallway," she addresses Thomas with a wry smile. "Think you could get your wife to a delivery room before I have to get the rest of the hospital staff involved?"

Some part of Kara knows that Thomas is just _lighting up_ at the referral to her as his wife, but she's too busy allowing herself to be led into the delivery room to correct the assumption.

It probably wouldn't be the worst idea in the world to make this beautiful idiot of a man legally hers, anyway.

-

It's not a blur, exactly, after that. For the rest of her life, Kara will remember the birth of her only child in the kind of vivid detail that few other events in her lifetime will inspire.

It's more of a rush, a letting go of the control to which she's been so desperately clinging, a surrendering in battles she hadn't even known she'd been fighting. She could almost get lost in it, if it weren't for the steadying presence at her side, allowing his hand to be squeezed to dust when she wanted him, and getting the hell away from her when she didn't, always anchoring her to this moment, to their baby.

When that sweet relief finally comes, when she hears that first, unmistakable cry, when that slippery, pink, perfectly formed little body is laid in her arms, and Thomas announces jubilantly that it's a girl, that they have a _daughter_ \- then, then she cries.

-

Hudson Rae Ward is four and a half hours old and her parents still haven't gotten sick of looking at her.

"Yep," Thomas announces after a thorough examination of her tiny hands and feet. "She's my new favorite anything."

Kara hums in agreement, running one finger down her soft little cheek. How could anything be so perfect, let alone something two such deeply flawed and broken people had made together?

 _But you're the best of us,_ she thinks to her small daughter, that almost choking sensation of fierce, protective love that she's already come to associate with Hudson coming over her. _I hope there's never a time when you don't know that._

Kara had, in the innermost parts of her being, harbored a secret fear that she wouldn't love her baby enough. That she wouldn't be the kind of good or natural mother that this baby deserved. And sure, she still had moments of feeling almost cripplingly inadequate even in these first hours, and knew that many such times were yet to come. But from the second she set eyes on her daughter, she had known that she couldn't love anything more.

She had been loathe to let her out of her arms, except to Thomas. The moment Hudson had heard her father's voice, cooing softly to her at Kara's side, she had stopped crying, which she had been doing vigorously since she had first arrived earth-side. It was a response so affecting that it had Thomas unabashedly wiping at tears of his own.

She manages to tear her gaze away from the sleeping infant in her lap long enough to catch Thomas looking at her, a soft smile on his face.

Kara blinks at him. "What?"

"You're amazing," he tells her, his simple sincerity invoking an almost physical ache in her.

She rolls her eyes a little, an instinctive response more than anything. "You're a mess," she returns, running one hand over his stubbly jaw with a tenderness that belies her flippant words. "Did you have this baby or did I?"

He stretches dramatically. "Well, it _feels_ -"

"Don't," Kara warns. "Don't finish that thought."

Thomas nods, eyes wide with the realization of how close to the danger zone he'd stepped. "Good call."

She frowns a little, the thought occurring to her for the first time. "How did you get here so quickly anyway?"

Thomas looks solemn. "I made a deal with the devil."

"I think you should take that personally," says a voice from the doorway.

Kara looks up to find Skye standing there, looking playfully up at a tall, dark-haired man by her side who by all appearances has just arrived.

The man in question shakes his head at his wife, then at his little brother. "This is the thanks I get," Ward mutters, but smiles at Kara with the kind of warmth that only comes from the deepest of friendships, built on trust and forged in fire.

Gazing at the two standing in the doorway, Kara is overwhelmed with a fierce fondness for them both.

"Come meet your niece properly, you two," she beckons, arm outstretched to welcome them into the room fully.

Once the appropriate - and sincere - ooh-ing and ahh-ing has taken place, and there is an overly manly exchange of shoulder claps between the two brothers that fools absolutely no one, Skye and Thomas naturally get into a ridiculous back-and-forth about changing diapers or something equally inconsequential. Kara isn't listening too closely, as she takes the chance to address Ward privately.

"Thank you," she tells him quietly. "I don't know what you did - "

Ward shakes his head dismissively, but there's a softness in his eyes. "Hey, any time. You know that."

She does know it. But still - "Thank you." She clears her throat before she can do any more crying that day.

Ward grins now, a playful gleam in his eye. "Are you sure a baby this pretty is half my brother?" he questions, purposefully raising his voice so that Thomas will hear. "You're a good-looking woman, Kara, but that's a lot of ugly to overcome."

"Watch yourself," Thomas retorts lazily. "We share a gene pool."

"Heaven help us," Skye mutters.

Thomas scratches his chin in pretend thought. "Yes, I suppose one _could_ say that being with a Ward man is a kind of heaven - "

A groan erupts en masse.

"Lame," Skye jeers.

"Really not your best work, babe," Kara adds.

"Well, no," he agrees. " _This_ is my best work," he proudly declares, complete with a gesture towards his daughter vaguely reminiscent of The Price is Right.

"Cute," Skye concedes. "But Kara is the one who grew, housed, and birthed the kid. What did you do?"

Thomas grins now, a little wickedly. "The fun part."

"Gross," Skye grimaces. Beside her, Ward wears a similar expression of distaste. "We already know too much about your sex life, guys."

"Skye!" Ward scolds, reaching to cover his small niece's ears with both hands gently, looking scandalized. "Don't talk about s-e-x in front of the b-a-b-y."

Thomas stares at his rough and tough older brother, reduced to this. "Unreal," he breathes.

Skye just looks fondly exasperated. "She's, like, five hours old, Grant."

"They're impressionable," Ward insists.

"See," Thomas mutters to Kara, who simply rolls her eyes in response.

"Then I'd look to your own kingdom first, bub," Skye returns with raised eyebrows.

Ward frowns. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you better _hope_ Lara slept through the other night - "

"Not in front of the b-a-b-y," Kara interrupts firmly.

-

After Skye and Ward leave, Kara sleeps like the dead.

She had expected that Thomas would do the same, as worn out from his travels and the excitement of the day as he must be, and that they would be awakened by Hudson's eventual cries. She's surprised, therefore, when she wakes up three hours later, to find Thomas standing near the foot of the hospital bed, their daughter carefully cradled against his chest.

"Hey," she says drowsily. "Did she wake up at all?"

Thomas shrugs. "A little. She likes me to walk around, I think."

Kara blinks, assessing him. "Did you walk her the whole time I was asleep?"

"Not the whole time." He hesitates. "Most of it."

She reaches her arms out to receive her child. "Sit down," she commands. "You're no good to either of us dead on your feet."

Thomas readily hands his small burden over before collapsing into the chair at her bedside. Kara takes a moment to adjust Hudson's blankets, impulsively dropping a brief kiss on her daughter's cheek as she does so. She wonders anew at this tiny creature's ability to have her so completely wrapped around her little finger already.

Kara moves her gaze from her daughter to the father thereof. He returns her gaze, a bemused look on his face.

"Who let us have a baby, anyway?" he blurts out.

Kara raises her eyebrows. "I think we did," she quips.

"Honestly, Kara," he passes one hand over his face. "I mean, there's no way we're qualified for this, right? I'm not anyway. You could do this all by yourself, probably. But me... I'm terrified." Thomas admits at last.

"You think I'm not?"

"Could have fooled me."

Kara laughs in disbelief, then immediately feels guilty for shaking the baby. But a quick glance at her daughter proves her still fast asleep.

She shakes her head. "Come on, Thomas. I'm just as scared as you. More, probably. What kind of parents will we be? What kind of life can we give her, with what we do? Can we keep her safe? Will she feel loved, accepted for who she is? I worry about all of those things."

Thomas looks stricken. "Oh, man," he moans. "I was just thinking about how little we know about infant care. I hadn't even gotten to the lasting emotional damage we'll inflict on her."

"I mean, sure," Kara admits. "We'll probably screw her up pretty good. No one gets through childhood unscathed. But she'll _have_ us, you know? We're a family. And family is what you make it." She tightens her grip around her daughter protectively. "And we're gonna make it a good one," she vows.

"I don't know the first thing about being a good father, Kara," he confesses, but the furrow in his brow has decreased and his posture has relaxed some.

"You'll learn. Besides," she smiles softly. "I kinda think you might be a natural."

He shakes his head, but she can tell the burden has been at least temporarily lifted from his shoulders. "How could I ever begin to deserve you?" he asks, as grateful as he is perplexed.

"Well," Kara says, perfectly casual. "You could start by marrying me."

Thomas startles, then narrows his eyes at her. "Don't tease me about this," he warns softly.

"Who said anything about teasing?"

He stares at her. "You're serious? You want to get married?"

Kara tilts her head. "Unless you've changed your mind?" she questions, far too innocently.

He actually sputters. She's maybe enjoying this a little too much. "Of course I haven't. You _know_ I haven't."

"Feet haven't gotten cold?"

"They're downright _toasty_ , thank you."

"Okay, then."

"I'm gonna marry the _crap_ out of you."

"Romantic."

He stands abruptly, in full flight now. "Oh, you want romance? I'll give you romance. Get ready, Palamas, because I'm gonna knock your socks off with the most romantic proposal of all time."

He's got that look in his eyes, the dead-set, cocksure expression that Kara has seen on many occasions, including but not limited to the moments prior to the blessed event that culminated in the child in her arms.

Undeterred by nostalgia or any other feelings the expression may stir up, Kara smiles calmly at him. "But you can't propose to me. I already beat you to it."

He stares at her for several beats, one arm still frozen in a dramatically wide sweeping gesture. "Well, I'll be damned." He collapses back into his chair, all the air gone out of him.

"Once again, your mother has gotten the best of me," he finally tells Hudson, blinking. "And you're gonna be just the same, aren't you?" He shakes his head, looking heavenward for strength. "God help the man, he needs all the help he can get," he mutters.

"You still haven't said yes," Kara feels the need to point out.

"Haven't I?" A slow grin forms, replacing the dazed look.

"Nope."

"Well." He rises swiftly from his chair, before leaning towards her with a purpose. When he kisses her, it's slow and tender and sure.

When he pulls away, he doesn't go far. Just enough to murmur, "That answer enough for you?"

"Mmm," she hums contemplatively. "I might need you to repeat yourself."

He immediately obliges, and she responds, sliding a hand around the back of his neck to hold him in place. Just when he moves to brace his hands against the bed on either side of her head, an indignant squawk arises from between them.

They break apart with a laugh and Kara prepares to try to feed the baby, whose cries are growing in volume and vigour.

"I get the feeling," Thomas remarks, a rueful smile playing at his features. "That this is going to be a recurring theme."

Kara has a feeling he may be right.

-

Thomas keeps looking over his shoulder. Kara knows, because every time he does, his arm swings a little, nudging her ever so slightly with the baby's car seat.

"What?" she finally asks after the fourth time this happens.

"They're just - they're just gonna let us _leave_?" he hisses in disbelief.

She raises her eyebrows. "Did you want to stay?"

"Well, no, but - " Thomas gestures as best as he can, laden as he is with their sleeping infant in her car seat. "Shouldn't there be some kind of, I don't know, process?"

"For what? She's healthy, she's eating well, I'm recovering," Kara lists off. "Everything checks out. What more do you want?"

"To not feel like I'm stealing my own baby."

Kara slides her sunglasses over her eyes as they approach the final set of sliding glass doors that lead to the outside. "I think that's called paranoia."

"It's _weird_ , though, right?" Thomas insists.

It _is_ weird. Kara can't help but feel like they're getting away with something, leaving the hospital with Hudson. Surely, any moment now someone is going to run after them and say there's been a mistake, that they can't possibly allow these people to leave with a baby, to care for her totally unsupervised.

She's not about to admit that to Thomas, though, knowing deep down as she does that the idea is ridiculous. After all, someone around here has to remain reasonable for all of their sakes, not the least of which their daughter's.

 _Yikes_. Kara winces inwardly in sympathy for her child. _Good luck, baby girl._

"Where did you park?" she asks, changing the subject.

"Second row down on the left," he answers, still a bit distractedly.

They don't speak as they make their way to the vehicle. Thomas looks behind them twice more, but Kara refrains from commenting this time.

Once they reach the car, Thomas is meticulous in securing the car seat in the back. He must perform a full check at least four times on all the straps and buckles, and even once that is to his satisfaction, he remains in the doorway, frowning in thought.

"What is it?" Kara questions from his side.

"Do you think she's warm enough?"

"I think she has enough blankets to survive an ice age, yeah."

He looks worried now. "Could she be _too_ warm?"

Kara laughs. "She's fine, Thomas."

Thomas groans, resting his forehead on the top of the door frame. "I was supposed to be a cool dad."

"You are a cool dad."

He turns his head enough to peer at her. "Now I _know_ you're lying to me."

She props her chin on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Only a little."

They remain standing this way for a long moment. "I just want to emphasize," Thomas says slowly. "How very much I do _not_ know what I'm doing."

"Really?" She draws away, giving him a faux-haughty look. "I'm an expert."

He gives her an assessing look, a grin slowly forming. "Is that right?"

"Absolutely," she lies brazenly.

"Oh, thank God one of us is, then."

"I can give you some tips, if you want," she offers magnanimously.

Thomas adopts a humble expression. "Please."

"Step one," Kara begins, straight-faced. "Keep breathing."

"Funny."

"You hear it now, right?"

"Yeah, that's garbage advice."

She grins and gives his cheek a brisk pat. "See? Fast learner."

Thomas actually rolls his eyes at her, and it's like they've switched roles or something. Parenthood changes a person, Kara reflects.

He's grinning though, and holding his shoulders a bit looser. "What's step two, Lady Wisdom?"

"Get in the car and take us home."

"Logical _and_ a smartass," he mutters, lingering to tuck the edge of Hudson's blanket under her feet before shutting the door softly. "Aren't I the luckiest bastard?"

Kara tilts her head in consideration. "I think so."

"So do I," he agrees, and surprises her by bending down to kiss her right there against the car door.

"Six weeks," she reminds him, a little breathlessly, when he finally draws back.

"Yeah, yeah," he sighs. "Parenting is about sacrifices, right?"

Kara raises her eyebrows. "Who's teaching who here?" she asks mildly.

Thomas lifts his hands in apology, taking a step back to open the door to the driver's side. "My bad. Is there a step three?"

"Of course, there's a step three," she calls over her shoulder, making her way to the other side of the vehicle and sliding into the back next to Hudson.

"So what is it?"

She hesitates, then shrugs, buckling her seatbelt. "Try not to die."

Kara looks up to see his faint grin in the rear view mirror as he mutters, "Finally, something I'm familiar with."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the planet, Hudson Rae Ward. Your family is a disaster, but they're doing their Best.
> 
> I swore I'd never write a birth fic, but when Ali brought Hudson Rae Ward into the canon, who else was supposed to bring her into the world? This was probably in the friendship contract somewhere.


End file.
